


Dissemination

by DarkShadeless



Series: Long live the Emperor (whether he likes it or not) [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: AKA, Empire society, He has a plan, Imperial Intelligence, Multi, Recruitment, and be a shit, and there's an ImpInt agent at the door, as is standard for Empire society, but might be questionable, cipher nine doing what he does best, flirt, hopefully acing his mission, i guess, in general, mentioned: Sith Empire levels of surveillance, seeing as this is the Empire, tangentially mentioned: Racism, that's... probably under consent, the plot thickens :D, uh, while acing his mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-04-12 05:05:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19125163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkShadeless/pseuds/DarkShadeless
Summary: Holy moola. The things Cipher Nine has missed.But he has a mission to complete here. Hmmm. Step two: Resources too scarce? Task outside of personal ability? Recruit help.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [To the ImpInt agent reading my posts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19114090) by [DarkShadeless](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkShadeless/pseuds/DarkShadeless). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loosely connected to the events of 'To the ImpInt agent reading my posts'

 

 

Holy moola. The things Talam has missed.

Their Emperor _died_ and no one knows. The Dark Council elected a replacement and _no one knows_.

… the Sith got their shit together long enough to agree on _anything_ much less a _boss_ and _no one knows_.

Kriff. Paint him purple and call him a bantha, miracles do happen.

Talam isn't sure which part is more surprising, seeing as the Intelligence department of the Empire has been out of commission for months and wasn’t in any shape to deal with a recalcitrant toaster oven, never mind counter intelligence.

They have their work cut out for them.

Alright, here goes. Time to get this show on the road.

Now, unorthodox times require unorthodox measures. This time, right now, is about far off the charted routes as it gets and Talam has some experience. He's a veritable connoisseur of mayhem.

 

_#We need dissemination, Cipher. The public must be inoculated against this news but they cannot be allowed to be aware of it. Your mission parameters are as follows and please do get creative, within reason…#_

 

Well, Talam can be _flexible_ , where required.

Watching Keeper pinch the bridge of his nose at that pun had made his entire day and then some.

_Get creative. Alright then. I can do creative._

In fact he likes to do creative and its sister improvisation at the same time and it makes for a fantastic threesome. Never too soon for a repeat performance.

 

(In an undisclosed orbit, far above Dromund Kaas, on the cloaked station that once was the Immortal Emperor's seat of power, Keeper develops a sudden tick to his eyebrow.)

 

The trick is thinking your way outside the box. How do you tell someone something without them being aware of it?

Subliminal messages come to mind. So does neurolinguistical programming but who has the resources to stretch something like that across all of Kaas City these days and farther if possible?

ImpInt sure doesn't. So that's right out. This is a one agent mission, impossible as is his usual.

_Step one: Identify the message. Check._

_Step two: …_

Okay, step two is a work in progress. _Hmmmm… how do I parcel this out without causing mass panic and an op sec breach that will have Keeper bend me over and flog me?_

… there's a thought.

No. Bad Talam. Work, not play. At least until an opportunity arises to combine the two.

_What to do, what to do…_

 

It's quite the dilemma but in the end? It's not _nearly_ as complicated as all that.

 

* * *

 

_Step two: Resources too scarce? Task outside of personal ability? Recruit help. Don’t know where to recruit help? Find out._

 

* * *

 

After some very tricky intel gathering Talam finally has the beginnings of a plan. It’s a great plan. A wonderful plan. It’s almost guaranteed to give Keeper blood-pressure issues and that’s always a bonus, so Operation DoubleFake is a go.

Go big or go home.

 

Talam's first stop is the Imperial Naval Academy. Seeing as it’s a military installation (like almost anything in the Empire, let’s be real here) all it takes to get him past the entrance hall is a charming smile and fake ID number seven.

They have an excellent intelligence program here as well as decent faculty that puts their collective mind to all things propaganda.

Neither is what he is here for.

No, Talam ignores the fancier plaques and makes a beeline to the barracks.

Not all students live on campus but some do, as row upon row of the featureless doors in the designated dorm area prove. Some have commuted in from other planets to be educated here. Others…

The chime gives an electronic chirp under his thumb. After a long moment the door he is waiting in front of is opened the faintest bit. “Yes? What do _you_ want?”

Not even a ‘hello’. Figures _._ _Racists, racists everywhere. Long live the Empire._

Talam gives the bulky young man on the other side his brightest, most seductive smile. Then, when he’s about to palm the door closed again he whips out their military ID with a flourish (because he is an asshole and not shy about it).

The boy freezes like a puppy suddenly realizing they’re facing a nexu instead of an alley cat.

“Sir.”

 

* * *

 

“Varo!”

“What!”

His speakers squeal with interference.

Not a second later Garth’s voice snaps at him. # _Dude, don’t yell into your damn communicator._ #

Oops. “Sorry, guys.”

Varo glances over the map laid out on his holo table and pushes his hair out of his eyes. Leaving his bangs to grow out was the best idea ever, he looks so _cool_ , but damn if it isn’t annoying sometimes.

They almost have it. One more push to go and they’ll be the uncontested winners of this speedrun tournament. Take _that_ Soral.

“VARO!”

“NOT NOW!”

# _KROK DAMN IT DUDE!_ #

“Sorry!”

Kriff, if he ruins this for them his team is gonna kill him. He has to get back on track-

Which is, of course, the exact moment the door to his room is overridden (Rude! He locked that for a reason! Wait-), light flooding his perfectly arranged gamer cave and ruining his vision. Damn the Spires of Hataran and their filigree construction. Varo doesn’t even need to _see_ to know for a fact his toon just fell over the edge.

# _What the kriff, dude!_ #

“Just- gimme a second, Fluffy-“

# _We don’t have a second, man! We’re on a speedrun!_ #

“I know!” Glancing at the respawn timer (thirty seconds), Varo swirls in his chair. “What the shit, Tarik-“

His roommate isn’t alone. Any thoughts of SoH tournaments and speedruns go right out the proverbial window when Varo realizes not only that but how _scared_ he looks. His posture is picture perfect and he’s paler than he has ever seen the guy.

At his shoulder, like a damn prop out of a bad meme, looms a Chiss in non-descript military blanks, the kind of uniform that might as well not be a uniform because there’s _nothing on it_ and Varo has watched _way too many conspiracy flicks-_

“Varo Kartuan, I presume. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, CakeOrHugs.”

_Kriff._

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have convinced my brain to produce words! *waves tiny flag*

 

 

The Chiss kicks Tarik out unceremoniously. He doesn’t bother to turn on the lights. In the flickering of the holo display he look like something out of horror holo-drama, red eyes and all. The nightmare agent come to take that one foolish side character away that’s been skirting the law. There’s always at least one.

 _Tag._ Looks like Varo is it. That bit of yelling might be the last thing his friends ever hear from him until their own worst nightmare comes knocking.

_Brrr, no more Spirit Day media binges, that’s wild even for you._

Overactive imagination or not, Agent Agent is, unfortunately, very real and very much here for _him_.

Like, Varo can’t even say he is surprised. They make fun of it, on the holonet, but the expectation that you’re watched, every hour of every day, it’s… it’s not a joke. Imperial Intelligence is everywhere and they know _everything_. That is more real for him than for most of the people he knows.

After… after what happened, after it _became real_ , he… well. He might have dived deeper into a few things he shouldn’t have.

Varo fiddles with his sleeves, swallowing heavily.

The Chiss hasn’t given him a name but that’s just as well. Any name he’d give him would probably be as fake as his uniform. A suit to put on and leave behind as necessary. Can’t be caught stuffing ex-cadets down the trash compactor wearing a callsign that might end up on a file.

His visitor leans against the only door with the lazy grace of a predator. … stars, Varo has watched too much blacklisted porn. If he’s not careful he’ll blurt out his part of those D-plot-rate lines and gods help him if he does. This is not a test, it’s the real deal, there’s an _Imperial Intelligence agent_ in his _dorm room_ \- he’s so kriffed, isn’t he? He’s kriffed.

“Am,” Varo winces at how squeaky he sounds. He clears his throat nervously. “Am I in trouble?”

The Chiss raises a single judgemental eyebrow. He doesn’t say a damn word. Varo wilts under the weight of his attention. “I didn’t do anything! I was just- I was just… browsing. For… for…”

Void-bound horrors, did they get a hold of his _search history_? He upgraded his algorithms beyond all reason to prevent that but he really should have expected this- Oh _gods_. “It was just _research_ , it wasn’t anything, and I don’t have much money, okay, I-“ Words desert him. Once you’ve got ImpInt at the door you’re a few boundaries past ‘I’ll never do it again’.

He can’t bring himself to look at his shady visitor. The shame alone is going to _kill_ him. What if _his_ agent saw- saw. All that. His… search history. That was _exactly_ what Varo broke about five different data regulations to avoid.

Cool fingers take a firm hold of his chin. Varo flinches but he doesn’t fight it when the man forces him to make eye contact. He musters Varo’s face intently. After a little while he makes a soft noise that’s almost a laugh. It’s not a nice one. “You’re more crafty than you look, aren’t you?”

Varo bites his lip. “This isn’t about the pirated porn, is it?”

“No. This is not about the pirated porn.”

Drats. That’s about the only thing he is willing to admit to under potential (or assured) surveillance. If Agent Agent expects him to incriminate himself any more than that he’s shit out of luck. Varo wasn’t born yesterday. “What- what did I do?”

The Chiss’ lips curls into a slow smile. It’s not a nice one either, though one could argue that it wouldn’t be out of place on a holo-ad. Seriously. How is that fair? He has a dusting of _blue freckles_ on his cheeks. He’s so godsdamned pretty.

Varo’s taste in men is going to get him killed. Literally. … he has a type, okay? He’s not even trying to deny it.

Agent Agent leans over him, still smiling like the most attractive Nexu Varo has ever seen, and flicks his fingers through his holo display. The game is shunted to the side and in its place something else pops up, a very familiar something. Or rather ‘Somethings’.

Under the Chiss’ hand what looks like all of Varo’s recent fanart wanders across the screen, pic by pic. He pulls up one of his latest, a candid shot of the Emperor’s Wrath. Varo likes to work in LTFAs, limited-time frame animations, and this is one of his best yet. Even on his cheap-ass holo display it’s a thing of beauty. He caught it _just_ right. The Wrath starts out attentive but aloof and then- then it happens. Varo squealed aloud when he refined the footage and he’s not too proud to admit it. It’s _gold_. Worth every second he spent resizing.

There’s no sound so you can’t hear what the person he’s talking to is saying but it must be something funny. The Wrath starts unmoved, too perfect to be real, and then his shoulders come up a little bit as he ducks his head and raises a half-curled hand to his mask, as if to hide a laugh.

It’s vids like this one Varo bombards his friends and critics with when they ask him why he has such a massive crush on the guy. Just _look_ at him. He’s so expressive. (No, he’s not making it up! It’s subtle but that’s part of the appeal.)

It doesn’t hurt that the Wrath’s armor is so blindingly white he might as well have fallen right out of a pastel aesthetic picture set. He is wearing _light blue_ biolight accents. In public! A Sith! It’s a thing of beauty. That’s a true rebel, right there, and nothing will convince Varo otherwise.

It’s in his honor that he dyed his bangs baby blue and pastel pink. So far his instructors haven’t made him take it out as long as he gels them back for class even though they make _faces_ at his fashion choices. Almost-faces. That face where you just know they are working very hard no to make a face because Imperial Officers don’t make faces.

Hah.

A too cool hand on his shoulder jars Varo out of his runaway thoughts. _Kriff. Right._

“Do you know what this is?” The Chiss even _sounds_ like he has fallen out of one of those secret-agent-porn flicks Varo has definitely not pirated. Ever.

“That’s… my Empler feed?”

“That,” for some reason the purr in his voice sets off all of Varo’s warning bells. It’s hot as hell but… yeah. “Is an outtake of a recording made in a top secret military complex. Splashed across the web for all the galaxy to see.”

Oh _shit_.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

The kid’s already pale complexion grows even lighter. Talam will never stop being amazed by the blatant tells the human race is prone to. The faint echo of a pulse under his hand flutters.

Alright. So that part seems to come as a surprise, though he has no idea _how_ , see exhibit Aurek: the LTFA in question. The source footage should have made a few alarm bells ring.

His little amateur hacker is just lucky there’s nothing more incriminating about the shots he picked than a bit of hallway designation and the remnants of embedded encryption algorithms. If Talam wasn’t trained to notice that kind of detail he might have missed it. But, for once, security breaches are not the important part. He couldn’t give less of a damn. Someone else can rake Varo over the coals for that, or _could_ if it didn’t make him such a conveniently exploitable asset.

“Where did you get that holo file?”

The cadet works through a few false starts at an attempt of an answer, staring at his own post as if it’s a Kaasian jungle viper come to roost under his bed and ambush him in the middle of the night. “O-online.”

Oh, really. Talam leans in until he is just shy of actually breathing down the poor boy’s neck. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”

Varo’s throat clicks audibly. His voice falls to a distressed whisper. “I got it on a forum on the-“ He stutters and it’s no wonder with what he says next, “on the shadow net. I don’t know which. There- there are a few.”

 _Naughty, naughty_. Talam’s smile widens a little. It looks more like a threat than anything else, razorsharp and merciless. Hook, line and sinker. “The shadow net, hm? What’s a nice cadet like you doing in a place like that?”

Varo twists his sleeves between his hands. Really, he’s so cute it almost makes Talam feel bad about picking on him. Almost. “There’s not really any, any regular places to go to… to trade. Pics.”

“Pics.”

“P-pictures. And vids, I mean holos and-”

“I know what a vid is, kid.” Talam clicks his tongue and leans back a little. Just enough to give his quarry some space. It won’t do to press too hard. “So, you share… what? That pirated porn, is that it?”

“No!” Indignation and embarrassment paint high points of color on Varo’s cheeks. Adorable. “I mean- no! Just pictures. Of- of-“

With a smirk, Talam lends him a hand. “Sith?” Stars and void, what some people get up to is beyond his wildest imagination and that’s saying something. The galaxy is an amazing place.

“It’s all legal!”

In front of them his LTFA goes through another run. “Until someone breaks out the contraband.”

Varo flinches. “I didn’t know, I swear.” He reaches for his holo display with shaking hands and scrolls through his files faster than Talam can follow. “They, they had this chopped up vid, here,” the holo he brings up is a mess. You wouldn’t know it ended up as an aesthetic piece on Empler just by looking at it. “I remember they said they couldn’t get it to work so they were giving it away.”

“And you bought that?”

“Well, it’s pretty terrible.”

Talam chuckles darkly. “It’s supposed to be. That’s what it looks like when someone tries to rip Vev-Resh level encrypted intel from an Imperial data hub, kid.”

The cadet seems to shrink even more. “Oh.”

Yes, oh. “How long did it take you to clean that up?”

That earns him a grimace. “Three days. It was pain in my- uh. I mean- uhm.”

Three days. Not half bad. Talam has met active agents that struggle with coding their way through a scrambler they haven’t encountered before. Which is, incidentally, why ImpInt lets gems like this one float around to see who will pick it up and what they’ll make of it. He has to admit though that this is the first time he has seen sensitive content cut into fanart.

“Impressive.” Talam makes sure to put a bit of purr into his voice and he can pinpoint the exact moment Varo picks up on that. It’s all in the fidgeting.

But his flirting isn’t the only thing the boy picks up on. He chances a glance at him from under his bangs, eyes dark with fear but searching. “You’re not here to make me disappear are you?”

What a smart cookie. That’s just the kind Talam likes best. “No. No I’m not.”

 

* * *

 

Varo’s heart is beating so fast he feels a little dizzy. He can feel his pulse in his _ears_ and that’s probably not a good sign.

The Chiss red eyes are staring straight into his own and he can’t look away for the life of him. Somehow the prospect of him having turned up on his doorstep not to _arrest_ him is even more daunting than the alternative.

There is only one thing that can mean and if the next words out of his mouth are ‘The Empire needs you’ Varo is… he’s going to squeak and pass out. That’s a realistic assessment of what he feels will happen.

“I’m on a mission and I need your help.”

A thoroughly embarrassing sound out of the regular vocal range of human beings gets stuck in his throat. Oh stars, this is even _worse_.

“I… I’m just a cadet! I’m not even on the Intelligence track, I spend all my time surfing Empler, doing LTFAs and- and- eating _fast food_ right out of the box, I’m nobody, I can’t-“

The look the agent gives him is so intent it ties his tongue in knots. For the first time since he crashed Varo’s speed run he packs his smile away and, quite honestly, seeing him serious is worse. It’s so much worse. This is a guy doing things Varo can’t even imagine and he _means this_.

“You’re in the perfect position to be of assistance. If you weren’t I wouldn’t be here.” Of course he wouldn’t. Gods. This is a damned holo-movie scene. Varo’s damned life is a _cliché_. The agent reaches into his pocket and draws out a small, black sphere. Seconds later Varo’s holo-feed scrambles and falls into chaotic static.

“What I tell you next cannot leave this room. Do you understand?”

_Oh boy._

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

“The Emperor is dead.”

For an eternal moment Varo can’t make that claim compute. The words make sense, they exist, individually, but put together like that- He can’t bend his brain around them until he _does_.

His heart misses a beat. Oh _stars_. “What?” Varo sounds faint even to his own ears.

The faintly grim slant to the Chiss’ mouth says it all. He doesn’t repeat himself. Instead, he forges on, irrespective of Varo’s shock. “The Jedi got past his security a few months back and killed him.” The Emperor. Their Emperor. Their _Immortal Emperor_ , who has ruled the Empire for _a literal thousand years_ and he’s- he can’t be. Can he?

His existence has never really had an impact on Varo’s life yet hearing that he’s _gone_ is- is-

“The Dark Council has ruled in his absence ever since. Two months ago they have elected a replacement.” A replacement? Who could possibly replace their leader of a _millennium_? If this gets out people will freak the hell _out_. Morale will be in shambles.

 _‘_ What I tell you next cannot leave this room.’ No shit. Kriff. Varo has barely known for a minute and he wishes he didn’t.

With a carefully turn of a dial on the agent’s device and the center his holo-feed clears up again. Just the picture that got him in so much trouble, nothing else. It hovers over a background of splintered blue lines of code.

“Meet your new Emperor.”

Varo… glitches out. That’s all he can describe it as, he just… stares for a moment, while his brain reboots. No way.

“No _way_.” He breathes the words more than he says them. No way in all the meteor fields this side of the core. “Is he even in line for the throne?”

“If he wasn’t he is now.”

No **_way_**. This is simultaneously one of the most distressing and one of the best moments of Varo’s life. “You are fripping me.”

“I wish I was.” The agent’s grave tone drags him straight back down to earth. Right. Shit. “I’m sure you have an idea how explosive this piece of news could be. It needs to be handled with care.” Oh no. Varo has a bad feeling about this. “And that’s where you come in.”

He doesn’t quite manage to hold a squeak back this time. “Me?”

“Yes. You.” There’s a hint of steely emphasis on the second word. “Welcome to ImpInt, Fixer Eighty-seven.

 

* * *

 

Varo is pretty sure he’s dissociating a little. His body feels kind of far away. This has to be a dream. He must have gotten a bad batch of Kaasian noodles. That has to be it.

Yeah, as if. Mom always said his hobbies would get him into trouble one day. Sure, she meant ‘with the good upstanding citizens who will see your dyed hair and faint in horror’ but either way she’s right and that sucks more than words can say. Varo hates it when she’s right.

And it gets worse. As the Chiss outlines what he expects of him, he has to make a conscious effort not to start breathing too fast. Terror nips at his heart and makes his fingers go numb.

_Shit. Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit._

But he doesn’t have a choice, here, does he? He has to do this, for the Empire, and… that’s daunting and scary and… and Varo has never really thought he could make much of a difference. Not really. He’s just a little cog in the machine. They all are and they know it, it’s half of why he and his friends go out of their way to fit as much individuality into their lives as possible.

Looks like even a little cog can do some pretty important work. _Dangerous work_ , his brain reminds him. Oh, stars.

But at the end of the day Varo is Imperial. Glittercore and pastels and opinions better not said aloud where his instructors can hear them aside, that’s what he is. The Empire has shadows big enough to swallow you but once, not that long ago, one of them reached out to save him. They didn't have to, he's not sure it's even part of their standard procedure but... maybe it’s time to pay some of that back. Varo can’t claim he doesn’t want to.

He takes a shuddering breath and tries to settle his racing heart. “Okay. Okay. Just…”

The Chiss’ eyes him with calculation that’s closer to the surface than Varo is entirely comfortable with. Like a large cat, sure in its conviction that you will be the source of its next meal. But is that because you will shell out for it or because you will be that meal? Unsettling. “Yes?”

Varo scrapes every shred of courage he has into one small pile and tries to make his voice as firm as he can. “I’m going to need to see some ID.”

Surprise flickers over the agent’s face, amusement hot on its heels. “Kid. You realize every badge I show you is going to be a fake, right?”

No kidding. Varo gives him a _look_. “If I’m going to commit treason I need all the plausible deniability I can get. Cough it up.”

Knowing what he is here for doesn’t make the man’s startled laugh any less attractive. “You know what? I think I like you.”

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

 _Alright, buddy. Buckle up. Just… act naturally._ Easier said than done. Fripping hells. Varo takes a deep breath, puts his hands to the virtual keyboard and tries to ignore the trembling in his fingers. Just act naturally.

_Here goes._

 

* * *

 

Garth is still trying to drown their shameful, painful, _terrible_ failure of an attempt at a speed run through the Spires of Hataran in energy drinks and sugar when his Empler notifications bleep at him. He’s not going to look, no seriously, he’s _not_ in the mood- Wait a second. Is that- no. That traitor. That wretched _deserter_. What is Varo doing online? If his holo-connection hub hasn’t at the very least _imploded_ in the last half hour Garth is going to kill hi-

And then he sees the actual post. The title alone makes him inhale his next gulp of StimTastic. What the fuck. What the _fuck_.

 

_MY SHITPOST KILLED THE EMPEROR._

_SO NOW WE HAVE A NEW ONE!_

 

In truest Varo-esque manner what follows is an almost too glossy rendering of their Emperor’s Wrath at his most snooty. It’s all in the shoulders, how he settles them, tilts his chin and seems to look down at you even through a holo-pic. Garth is faintly appalled that he has been exposed to enough of Varo’s babbling to unconsciously make that connection. Faintly. It doesn’t hold a candle to how the post itself makes him feel. He slaps his hand on the messaging app so hard he slides through the holo and hits the rim of his unit. “ _Shit_. Ow!”

 

 _FluffyDeathBot_ : WHAT THE KRIFF MAN.

 _CakeOrHugs:_ HE’S SO PRETTY.

_YouKNowY has come online._

_YouKNowY_ : Cake, seriously, I love you but you’re going to get arrested.

 

Slowly, with the creeping dread of a cryptid sneaking up on you in the dark, something dawns on Garth. Varo has _no_ impulse control when it comes to his art. If he had that pic done before, he would have posted it in a _heartbeat_.

 

 _FluffyDeathBot:_ Dude. Is this what you left us hanging for?

 _CakeOrHugs:_ Maybe.

_FluffyDeathBot: …_

_FluffyDeathBot:_ Forget the cops, I’m going to murderstab you.

 

* * *

 

//Containment breach. Sensitive information above public clearance level detected.//

In front of a somewhat cobbled together interim solution of a monitoring system on what was once the Emperor’s Crucible, Minder Thirty-two takes one look at the source of that notification and chokes on his caf. Before his horrified eyes the post CakeOrHugs just threw out into the sharkpit that is Empler gains hits.

“Z6,” he finally manages to croak, “delete thread.”

His console chirps gently. Instead of obeying his command, a green-lit error message appears. //Mission ongoing. Please do not interfere.//

“What?”

Off to the side Minder’s multi-thread holo field flags another post as ‘critical’. And another. The third one isn’t even from the official holo-channels but originated somewhere in the grey area of the shadow nets. How did it trickle down so fast?

//Containment breach. Sensitive information above public clearance level detected.//

He reaches out to throw the snippets up into the air, scanning the content even as he tries to find a way to deal with this influx before it can spread.

 

_He’s the next best thing to a Voice tho, isn’t he?_

_You have to admit the Wrath is a prominent figure but if we look for a stand-in on worldly matters I’d wager Darth Marr is most competent…_

_Point’s moot tho. It’s not like the Emperor is gonna **die**. He’s what, a thousand years old?_

_... that's not actually an argument in my favor is it. Huh._

_Kids these days have no respect, did you read-_

 

Minder’s fingers fly across his console. “Z6, isolate and _delete_.”

//Mission ongoing. Please do not interfere.//

“What mission!“

//Information not available at current clearance level. Mission ongoing. Please do not interfere.//

The leaks multiply with alarming speed. Minder’s feed spits warning after warning until they take over his entire holo-station and fill his workspace with a deep green glow. His isn’t the only one. A wave of green seems to spill from his own cubicle and infect his neighbours', who have just as little luck combatting it as he does.

He can barely see anything for the error notifications. By the stars, how are they supposed to fix this?

 

//Mission ongoing. Please do not interfere.//

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They have unleashed... THE DISCOURSE!
> 
>  _On green in the Empire_ : As red is such a prevalent color, I feel like it really wouldn't be used as a warning sign. What's the point? Who would notice? Nobody, that's who. And holo signs and monitors seem to come in the standard color blue, so that's out too. I picked green because I honestly can't remember a time I have seen a green sign on an Imperial planet. (And because I like turning things on their head ;) )


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DID IT. I wrested the last chapter from the clutches of my cold and my distractable brain! What a combination.  
> MercuryPilgrim recently taught me a new word and I had to use it >> I have no regrets.
> 
> Neither does Talam, I'm afraid XD

 

 

Varo is still staring at what he has wrought with morbid fascination and a decent helping of horror when his partner in crime's commlink rings. He damn near has a heart attack. _Stars, I’m not cut out for this._

The Chiss is less jumpy. He fishes the device out of his pocket nonchalantly and activates it with a flick of his wrist. Above the miniature holo unit the picture of an older gentleman takes form. Said gentleman looks decidedly unimpressed. His expression puts Doctor Meravin to shame, that slave driver from ‘Basics of Military Conduct’, and that’s saying something. 

# _Cipher_.# (Oh good. Varo’s visitor is an _actual_ agent and not a scammer using him for his own gain. Probably. Aw hells, what has he gotten into here?)

"Keeper."

Keeper musters his agent, stone faced. After a few minutes more than is advisable for Varo's stress levels his mouth twists a little. 

# _Kudos_.#

The Chiss breaks into a blinding grin that's fit to stop hearts. "Why thank y-" The holo dissolves. Whoever that was has hung up and with prejudice. "Wow, rude. Oh well." The agent turns his smile on Varo. Yep. Still devastating. This entire adventure is about as good for his libido as it is for his life expectancy. "Looks like we’re in the clear for now. Good job, kid."

"Thanks," he manages, somewhat faintly. 

 

* * *

 

 

"I should thank _you_. You did most of the lifting for me, not half bad." Talam slides his comm. back into his uniform smoothly and drums his fingers against his thigh. _Well, that's that done._

All in a day's work.

It will take a while and a little encouragement by the right parties for their bait to spread properly but this is a good start. It gives their Minders’ efforts direction. That's all Keeper wanted, for Talam to find a way to solve their problem with the resources currently at their disposal. Sometimes half the job is knowing what your superiors actually need, even if they don’t, and then giving it to them.

Which… does leave him with a bit of time on his hands. "Say, kid, how do you feel about getting a drink or something-" Talam pauses. With a considering squint he gives his newest minion a once over he hasn't yet. He has his dossier but... "You _are_ legal right?"

Varo makes a noise Talam generally identifies with handbag sized pets that are being handled a little too roughly. How cute.

On the other hand it’s not the kind of sound that makes him correct his estimation of his minion’s age upwards, if you catch his drift. There are a few lines even Talam’s not willing to cross. Sad but true.

Varo is looking at him with wide eyes. He’s so sweet Talam could eat him right up. If he’s legal. If he isn’t, he’ll have to drown his gaze guilt in alcohol before reporting back in so… let’s hope his file isn't a case of creative interpretation where birthdays are concerned.

The blush creeping up his cheeks is rather fetching, at any rate. “Uh. Yes? Sure. I mean, totally. I am _so_ legal. Over nineteen, that’s me.” Score. Before Talam can make good on that opening, however, Varo looks down and fidgets with his hands. Softly, he says, “Are you… are you the ImpInt agent reading my posts?”

The question brings Talam up short. There’s a story here, a story that wasn’t on file. How interesting.

It would be so easy to say yes, to smile and turn on the charm. What could it hurt, right? Maybe he’ll even ferret out that story. He does like a good secret.

A few moments pass before Talam sighs internally and files away a lick of disappointment. “No, kid. I’m not. That a problem?”

Yeah, some lines… they’re better left where they are. If he's reading this right he's not getting lucky tonight, at least not here.

Varo is already not the biggest person Talam has ever met but there is something about the way he holds himself that makes him look even smaller. "Uhm. I think I'm going to have a slow night? This was all very- very. And I- I mean."

It's obvious that he doesn't really know what to say. That's not _quite_ a no but... it sure as hell isn't the enthusiastic 'yes' Talam likes to hear. Honestly, it isn't even really a 'maybe'. Talam takes it in the spirit it was intended. His smile softens a little bit. "Sure. Whatever you want. I think I'll go have that drink." He transmits one of his many, many holo-frequencies to Varo's terminal with a wink. "Call me if you change your mind, yeah?"

"Sure. I'll- I'll do that."

No, he won't, but that's alright. Talam's sure he'll find some company, the night is young.

 

* * *

 

After the agent leaves, Varo flops onto his bed bonelessly and buries his face in his pillow. “I’m an _idiot_ , I can’t believe I turned him down, that was the _HOTTEST GUY I’VE EVER SEEN, BY ALL THE LITTLE GODS_ -“

“Varo? Are you okay?” the words are muffled by the door but clear enough. Bless Tarik and his big, jock-y heart. When he forgets to be a tool he’s not half bad.

“I’m fine!”

“I… I thought I heard you yelling.”

“I wasn’t!” He totally was. At himself. He turned down _sex_ with a _supermodel_ , he could have hung up his membership in the v-club and gotten with a _Cipher_ and he screwed it _up_ , why _stars_.

“Okay. If you are sure.”

Varo resumes his attempts to smother himself with a whine. He’s going to die a _virgin_.

... but at least he listened to his gut. He deflates with a huff. After a few moments of near suffocation he rolls over onto his side and hugs the pillow close. It didn't _feel_ right to say yes.

 _Oh, well_. "Hey, Tarik!"

"Yes?"

Is that lug still standing in front of his damned door? "Are you creeping on me, my man?"

"... I'm just worried, Varo. That was- what was that? Who was that? What did he say to you? You two where in here forev-"

Varo heaves himself out of bed with supreme effort. His dormmate is, indeed, standing pretty much right in front of his door. Opening it all but has him falling into his room. Which kind of means his ridiculously muscled chest is  _right in front of Varo's face_ when he does that. "Yeesh, dude, respect the bubble." An injured baby nerf could not give him bigger eyes. Way to pull the heartstrings. Still. Varo puts on his best game face and gives him a deadly serious look. "Pal, I think we both know that we can never talk about what just happened. Ever."

"Varo-"

" _Tarik_. Never _ever_."

You'd think that one would be a no-brainer. Thankfully there is one person between the two of them who can withstand prolonged staring contests and it's not Varo's hulk of a roommate. "Okay! Okay."

"Good." He can only hope that got across. The last thing he wants is to come home to a mysteriously random swap of dorm spaces that conveniently forgets to mention where Tarik got off to. Yikes. "Alright. What are we having for dinner? Because I feel like today is MRE lottery day."

Tarik's face scrunches up in dietary horror. "We had MREs yesterday!"

They did. He whined then, too, like the health nut he is. Too bad for him he burns water and isn't any more made of money than Varo himself is. "Yes we did. And today we will again!"

"Varo!"

"MREs or canned noodles with ketchup for sauce, what's it gonna be? 'Cause I'm not cooking." Not after the day he has had, he isn't.

"... MREs."

"I knew you'd come around."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, yes. Business as usual in the Empire ;) life goes on.


End file.
